


Zevran and Mahariel Go Hunting

by chaosfay



Series: Random Gifts Trades and One Shots [21]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Assassins, Attempted Seduction, Blood, F/M, Fighting, Flirting, Humor, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 08:11:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13119669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosfay/pseuds/chaosfay
Summary: Mahariel is done dealing with Fereldon.  She dealt with the Blight, the Architect, and the politics surround the Grey Wardens for a few years.  Now she travels with her lover and friend Zevran, hunting down Crows wherever they may find them.  Though sometimes the hunts don't always go as planned.





	1. Making Plans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GuileandGall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/gifts).



> A Secret Santa gift for guileandgall on Tumblr. 
> 
> Originally planned as a one-shot fluffy smutty wonderful and it developed into chapters.

“How many is that now?”  Mahariel reached up and plucked an apple from the tree they were resting under.  
  
“Hmm…”  He counted his fingers silently before answering.  “Nine Crows killed, three maimed, and one turned.”  
  
“You don’t count.”  Mahariel examined the apple before wiping it on her sleeve.    
  
“You wound me!  Of course I count, mi amor.  I always do.”    
  
She rolled her eyes before sitting down beside him in the soft grass.  “What information were you able to gather from the last encounter?  Between the lies, of course.”  
  
“There’s a large celebration occurring in four days at a very important official’s home.  Many important rich people with enemies will be in attendance.  Not to mention a rapid hiring of servants, an increase in security measures, and many entertainers.”    
  
“We’ll blend in perfectly so long as we cover your tattoo.  Two elves on the serving staff?  Easy.”  
  
“That’s what has me concerned.  It’ll be too easy.”  
  
“What did you hear between the lies?”  
  
“There will be two assassin guilds present as well, many of them blending in like us and a few slipping in as entertainers and security.  Telling the two of them apart will be a challenge.  We’ll be lucky if we manage to take out one Crow or get out alive if spotted.”  
  
“Don’t jinx us.”  
  
“Covering my tattoo won’t be enough, nor will dying my hair.  If the Crows haven’t figured out by now that I’m still alive they’ll all be looking for me.”  
  
Mahariel nodded.  “Fair point.  Too bad no one knows what the Hero of Fereldan looks like aside from being Dalish.”  
  
Zevran grinned as he eyed her from her toes to her ears.  “We can play on that.”  
  
“I don’t want to.  I enjoy being anonymous, a nobody, with no expectations other than what I set for myself.  Plus I’m technically I’m a deserter.  The moment I make myself known the Wardens will hire someone to drag me back.”  
  
“It looks like we have a fair challenge ahead of us then.”  
  
“This is going to be so much fun.”  



	2. Preparations

The sun was hardly over the edge of the horizon when they arrived at the mansion.  Dozens of people stood in a crowd outside the servants’ entry gate, a few clearly having not bathed in quite a while, and nearly all of them were elves.  Zevran and Mahariel stood among them, clean, wearing clothes suitable for a servant at such a location.  It had taken some time to cover his tattoos, dark and widespread as they are, and now it looked only as though he had scarring on his face and neck.  They stood with their backs straight, eyes forward, waiting with hands held in front of them.  They were well practiced now having attended these sort of parties many times now.  You don’t want to look too confident, but you also don’t want to look skittish as a mouse.    
  
It took nearly two hours for the lead housekeeping staffer to decide who was suitable enough for serving.  It never ceased to amaze Mahariel how poorly elves were treated, both Dalish and city.  She could see the marks of Dalish living on the faces of several of the elves present.  Faded tattoos, scars covering the tattoos, the way they held themselves with a mix of pride and shame.  So many stories around her, stories she’d never hear.  Her own tattoos were covered with a similar paste as Zevran’s, though her own were far lighter and easier to hide.  Did the other Dalish present recognize her as one of their own?  Did they still consider themselves Dalish?  Thoughts for another day.  Now was not the time to go over a maybe, or what if.  There was only here and the hours ahead.  
  
They were separated as they expected.  He was sent off to do more of the heavy lifting while she helped clean the guest bedrooms.  Every step she took, every angle, it was all marked in her memory.  The number of exits, the windows and how far the fall was, which closets were full or empty or locked, and how many people were expected to stay the night.  No doubt Zevran was doing similar with whatever tasks he had been assigned.  She took special care in noting what places would be best for someone hiding and someone in the open; they may be needing those later.    
  
It was nearly time for lunch when she and several others were given clean uniforms to wear for the party.  The usual lecture was given, one Mahariel had heard many times over.  Don’t do this, don’t do that, stay away from this person or that person and never look them in the eyes, and don’t try stealing anything because everyone will be looked over before leaving.  That last part was always an empty threat; they may try but by the end of the night no one wants to do anything but sleep.    
  
Uniform on, tray of food loaded, Mahariel followed several women out to the large dining hall.  It was strange working a lunch celebration; most events such as this took place in the evening.  She and Zevran had asked around while preparing to attend to see what sort of event it could be.  No one seemed to know or care, but it didn’t matter now seeing as they’re here.  Arriving in the dining hall she could see several tables set out and decorated with the usual Antivan flair she had come to love.  Zevran was nowhere in sight.  Nothing to worry about though, he can take care of himself unless he somehow gets locked in a cell again.  She giggled at the memory and quickly set it aside for later.    
  
The musicians had arrived and were being aided setting up the small stage they would be playing on.  No doubt one of them was an assassin.  They would have limited movement, yes, but during their breaks it’s not unusual for someone to take up flirting with a musician.  Done right their target would be the one approaching them.  She watched the rhythm with which the musicians moved, the flow of conversation between them, how they set things up by doing or by looking at another and copying their motions.  Little things like this were something she learned quickly while hunting down the Crows.  She took note that one of the musicians was either an amateur assassin or has poorly hidden stage fright.  
  
She set the food down on one of the highly decorated tables and, with the aid of a live-in servant, had it beautifully displayed in only a few minutes.  It was several rounds of going to the kitchen and returning to the dining hall before everything was set up.  Mahariel quietly thanked the Creators she had the foresight to eat a large meal the night before; everything on those tables smelled wonderful and looked delicious.  They’ll have to go to a bakery to get some of those tiny cakes, and Mahariel wasn’t going to pass up on those if she saw them.  
  
One by one the guests arrived.  Thankfully there weren’t any small children this time around.  The last party was a silent nightmare, disposing of the two assassins before the children could see them and saving the life of one child who was on their hit list.    
  
It wasn’t long before the dining hall was nearly full.  Everyone was arriving on time, no fashionably late nonsense.  It took no time at all to figure out what the celebration was about.  It wasn’t so much a celebration as it was a match-making event.  Who would be on the hit list was anyone’s guess seeing as so many high ranking and important people were present with their unmarried sons and daughters.  Two guilds, dozens of unmarried young men and women, Mahariel could only come to the conclusion that at least two families were at war with each other and were looking to end whatever feud was going on.  Except neither side liked the idea of inter-marrying.  What better way to end a feud than to cut off the possibility of another generation?  Which two families it was she couldn’t tell there were so many people present.    
  
She felt Zevran’s eyes before she heard him.    
  
“This will either be very messy or very entertaining.”  He stood just behind her, back against the wall, a smile in his voice  
  
“Likely both.  Are you seeing what I’m seeing here?”  
  
“A lovely party full of contracts, promises, lies, feuds, and affairs.”  He chuckled before leaning in a little closer, breath on her neck.  “I’ve found two assassins, one of them being in a position such as us and the other working as security.  They didn’t see me, but the guard isn’t a Crow.  The guard is by the hall to the guest quarters, the other-”  
  
“-the musician who is doing a poor job of fitting in.”    
  
“Yes.  He’s an amateur, likely going through initiation rights.”  
  
“His trainer is here somewhere.”  
  
“I haven’t been able to spot who it is, but considering how nervous the boy is I’m going with either hidden or hidden in plain sight within the crowd.”  
  
A rough “ahem” sounded nearby.  The leading housekeeper could be seen glaring at them before signaling Mahariel to follow.    
  
“I’ll speak to you later.”  She kissed Zevran gently before approaching the rather angry looking woman.  
  
“I didn’t hire you to stand around and talk.  There’s wine and food to be served.  You and your friend can get friendly later when you’re not here.  Is that clear?”  
  
Keeping her back straight, head down and voice soft, “of course, ma’am, I meant no disrespect.”   
  
“Now go get some pitchers of wine and replace the empty ones on the tables.”  She pointed to the kitchen.  
  
The music started up as she and several other women moved close to the wall before reaching the tables.  A wise set-up, preventing the servants from interrupting any important conversations or receiving unwanted attention.  It also made it more difficult to get a good look at anyone within the crowd.  This continued for a couple hours, moving back and forth to replace wine, water, and various foods (namely the little cakes the women seemed to favor so much), before she was given time for a break.  Taking full advantage of this Mahariel went to the dining hall, but not even halfway there Zevran caught her by the arm and pulled her after him to poorly hidden nook.  
  
“We may have a problem.”  
  
“They find you before you found them?”  
  
“Yes…”  
  
“I told you to dye your hair and not to smile so much.”  
  
“We need to leave.”  
  
“How many are there?”  
  
“Six Crows.  As for the other guild, twice that.”  
  
“Do they play well together?”  
  
Zevran looked confused for a moment before the recognizable look of mischief filled his eyes.  “No, they do not.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the mad level of details. I just have this image in my head and really want to convey it without too much cramming.


	3. Let's Play

“We need to kill one of the rivals.  Killing a Crow will make it obvious it’s you.  However, if one of the others were to die they would go after the Crows, correct?”  
  
Zevran grinned.  “Indeed.  It would turn into a silent bloodbath.  They won’t be able to go after their targets when they themselves are targets.”  
  
“Let’s go play.”  
  
“We meet back here when done.”  
  
It didn’t take long to find their targets, though it took considerably longer for Zevran to reach his without being seen.  Mahariel moved with ease and confidence through the shadows, looking for all the world to be a simple servant girl.  At least until she slipped a long blade between the ribs of the young female assassin while holding her hand over the woman’s mouth.  It was a quick and silent death, no reason to draw more attention than necessary.  She pulled the body to sit just out of the sight but with a trail a well trained eye would understand.  Seeing another walking in her direction she turned and made her way toward the meeting spot, careful to keep a look out for anyone following or someone to follow instead.  
  
Ten minutes and four bodies later Mahariel hid and waited.  Then fifteen.  Twenty.  She remained well-hidden, not a drop of evidence on her.  Had Zevran done the same?  Was he hiding elsewhere, unable to leave?  Thirty minutes, and likely fired from the serving staff by now, Mahariel moved toward the dining hall, cautious and remaining near the wall.  She saw no evidence of him being discovered was she made her way through the large and crowded room.  What she did see was something metallic catching the light in a potted plant near the guest quarters…and no one guarding the entryway.  It was a small knife, one easily hidden and unremarkable, and a blade he carried with him at all times.  She tucked it into her belt and made her way down the hall.    
  
All the doors had been locked that morning after cleaning them.  She could see the polished handles had hand-prints on them.  Zevran had to be nearby.  It was drops of blood in front of one of these doors that alerted her.  She walked across the hall away from the blood and looked around a large potted plant.    
  
“Are the Crows unaware of your inability to pick a lock?”  Mahariel kept her voice just above a whisper.  
  
The peaked around enough for her to see his face.  “You are cruel.  Is anyone out there?”  The sound of several footsteps echoed against the walls.  Before she could respond Zevran grabbed and pulled her close.    
  
“How did they know we were here?”  The accent was Orlesian.  “We were informed our presence would remain unknown.”  
  
“Does it matter?  They know we are here now and have made it clear they will kill us.”  
  
“Likely they may be playing bodyguard as well as assassin.  This will be complicated.”  
  
Their voices faded as they continued down the hall.  They waited until there was nothing but silence before speaking.   
  
“Looks like they’ll kill each other for us.”  Zevran winked at Mahariel.  
  
“How did you manage that?”  
  
“I was spotted by a Crow while killing one of the others, and when they came after me I hid long enough for them to be seen with the body.  The fight was long enough for both sides to see it.  Crow died, the other was severely wounded and tried making his way into my hiding place.  I took him out before making my way over here.  One of the Crows saw me, they saw him, and I hid while they chased each other.  An excellent plan, yes?”     
  
“Yes, a genius move with one flaw.  You do realize we have no chance of leaving soon, right?”  
  
“Which would be?”  
  
“We can’t leave because they’re hunting you down out there.  I can’t get out there because they likely saw me come in here.”  
  
“Perhaps we should find a room with windows?  We can climb down.”  
  
“Or fall and have everything stolen by street urchins.  Come on.  It won’t be long before anyone follows us here.  They’ll figure out you’re still alive or will want to investigate what happened to their fallen fellow.”  
  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can never have too much humor IMHO.


	4. A Hiding Place

Mahariel lead the way down the guest wing having memorized which rooms had the safest window to climb from.  Unfortunately there were only three.  More unfortunate was the fact they could now hear footsteps behind them.  She turned a corner and picked up the pace, but so did the people following them.  She could see the rooms up ahead, and one of the doors was already open.  The footsteps behind them broke into a run, and so did the two of them.  Their exit was close…and obvious.  The chances of them being able to make it to the window and climb down safely was slim to none.  There would be people on the ground ready to end them, and scaling the walls to another exit would be a dead end.  Nowhere to go except…  
  
“Zevran, in here,” she whispered loudly.  She shut the door to the room firmly, then continued further down the hall to a broom closet and pulled him inside.  They closed it softly and held their breath while they waiting.  
  
“We have them cornered.  Raise the alert, but be quiet about it.”  An Antivan accent this time.  “You two work on getting the door open.  I want Zevran and his friend alive.  That’s an order.  If either are killed you’ll join them.”  
  
They could hear them walking away and the familiar clicking of someone working on the lock.    
  
Mahariel started untying Zevran’s uniform jacket.  Zevran held his hands up, a familiar look on his face.  “Shush.”  With very little room it took a couple minutes to work it off him.  She rolled it up and carefully placed it on the floor to block the light from the hall as well as helping smother any noise they make.    
  
“I vote we remove some of your clothes now.  It doesn’t seem fair we use only mine.”  He nipped her ear, their bodies pressed close enough she could hardly squirm away.  
  
“Is that a knife in your trousers or are you seriously turned on by all of this?”  She pushed herself again him as she began removing one of the outer layers of her own uniform.  All she got from him was a low purr and a hot kiss on her neck.  “You’re insufferable.”  
  
“If we die today what better way to go?”  He slid his hands down her arms, pushing the clothing off carefully.  His mouth continued kissing her, from her neck to her shoulder, nipping softly.  
  
“I’d rather we live and not get captured.”  She slid one arm out of a sleeve, forcing her closer to him.    
  
“Mmmm…”  He worked on the other side of her neck, his tongue tasting every kiss.  
  
“Have you forgotten I can’t stay quiet to save my life?”  Mahariel did her best to ignore him while she slid the other sleeve off.  
  
“You may have to given the circumstances.”  He chuckled as he helped her remove the clothing.    
  
She folded and then rolled the clothing before cautiously sliding it down to the door, effectively blocking all light from coming in and muffling whatever sound was outside the door.  It also brought out a low moan of pleasure from Zevran as her backside pressed firmly against his significantly tighter trousers.  Mahariel couldn’t help but smile.  “At this rate you’ll be the one giving us away.”  
  
“Perhaps you can make a gag if necessary?”    
  
“Not enough room to take it off, nor do I have any clothing small enough.”  She stood slowly, careful not to move the clothing and keep Zevran as quiet as she can.  The latter didn’t work out so well.  
  
“Shall I seduce you or is it the other way around?  I like this position myself.”  Zevran chuckled as he slid a hand over one of her breasts and the other down between her thighs.  
  
“If we die it’s your fault.”    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point my right wrist was screaming at me in five languages I didn't understand but they all went along the lines of "AAAHHHHH!!!!" because of the pain.


	5. Knock Knock

“Do you hear that?”  
  
“Hear what?”  
  
“Moaning.”  
  
They stopped working on the lock for a moment, listening carefully.   
  
“I don’t hear anything.”  
  
“Door’s open.  Come on.”  
  
Upon entering they find the body of one of their own and walk over him.    
  
“Do you think we should throw him out the window?  It would be much easier than wrapping him up and carrying him out.”  
  
Looking under the bed, “no.  He’ll land as a mess and will be seen by anyone looking out the window.  Have you found them yet?”    
  
Nothing but silence.  
  
“Well?”  He stood up and dusted his knees off.    
  
“No, she found nothing.  We, however, have found you.”  Mahariel’s smile was the last thing the man saw before a hand was over his mouth and the other slid a knife across his throat.  
  
Zevran wiped the knife clean on the man’s shirt.  “You are a terrible tease.”  
  
“It was an effective plan, and may I add it was also much faster than waiting for them to fill the garden beneath the window.”  
  
“Ah, but there are still many of them gathering there I assume.”    
  
“That’s why we go out one of the other windows.  Come on.”  
  
“As you stated before, the doors are locked.”  
  
“It must be a Crow thing, taking too long to pick the long on a door or being entirely unable to unlock it at all.” She looked out the door, cautious about anyone else coming this way.  The coast clear she headed across the hallway and unlocked the door to the bedroom.  “See, just a few seconds.  Those two took several minutes.”  
  
“There was more emphasis on poisons and killing than there was on locks.”    
  
“Not useful in tight situations.”  She made her way to the window and opened it just enough to check the grounds.  “We can leap to the tree, climb down and wait for anyone to pass, and jump behind the bushes before scaling the wall.”  
  
“Will we finish what we started when we get to the inn?”  
  
“Of course.  Nothing gets the blood running like a brush with dead birds.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was enjoyable for you! It's the longest fic I've written in months. I'm quite proud of it, especially with fitting in some of the quirks Zevran showed in DA:O. I purposely left Mahariel's visual description blank so anyone who has a Mahariel warden can put her there. I tried writing her without a gender but things just read as really confusing. 
> 
> If you would like to create fanart please tell me. I can include it in one of the chapters with credit to you and a link to where you choose to post it. Please credit me for the story and link back here.

**Author's Note:**

> I would have written more but my right wrist was giving me hell. Currently it's in one of the stiff braces to restrict movement, but it's swollen and angry. I'm very happy with what I did manage to get written down though. Hopefully you enjoy it and forgive the typos and random bits that may be a bit repetitive. It's been awhile since I wrote anything this extensive, and got it done in two days.


End file.
